My Uncle Chris - Part 4

[Commission Piece]

Everyone in this story is 18+

-------------Grayson’s POV------------

The second day of my college tour was every bit as exciting as the first. I did miss Uncle Chris, but it was also nice to walk around on my own, reflecting on the past day—and more importantly, what had happened between us that morning.

The thought alone admittedly made it hard to stay flaccid as I continued exploring campus.

I had been looking forward to checking out the hockey team all day. The moment I stepped into the rink, the familiar chill in the air and the sharp scent of the ice hit me, sending a rush of excitement through me.

This was going to be my home for the next four years. The place where I’d push myself, where I’d prove I belonged. But more than that—it was the place Chris had played.

I had been playing hockey since I was ten, partly because Chris played. It had always been his sport, his passion, and I wanted to follow in his footsteps. Back then, I just admired him—his skill, his effortless cool, the way he seemed untouchable on the ice.

Now?

Now, things were different.

I walked through the locker room, my fingers trailing over the metal benches and scratched-up wooden stalls. The place smelled like sweat and old equipment, just like every other hockey locker room, but knowing Chris had once stood here made it feel different.

Then I saw it.

A framed team photo hung near the coach’s office, old but well-preserved. Chris was in it.

My breath hitched slightly as my eyes found him instantly, like they were trained to always seek him out. He was younger, early twenties, in his prime—many would have said. His jersey clung to his athletic frame, his grin was cocky and confident, and his brown eyes had that spark I had always admired. And I had to admit, as hot as he was back then, he had somehow only gotten hotter with age.

There was something about him now—distinguished, commanding. He carried himself with a certain authority, a presence that made my stomach tighten and my cock swell.

I swallowed hard as I adjusted myself, staring at the image longer than I probably should have. Then I noticed the guy standing next to him, an arm slung over Chris’s shoulder. There was a familiarity there, something in the way they stood together. He was lighter-skinned and lighter-haired than Chris, built like a statue—broad chest, lean torso, like most guys on the team—but he and Chris stood out.

I glanced down at the names.

Next to Christian Klein, I saw the name Nathaniel Quinn.

My gaze flickered back up to the photo, my stomach twisting with something I couldn’t quite name.

Chris had always been everything to me. The guy I looked up to, the one I wanted to be like.

And now, I really wanted more.

I exhaled slowly, shaking my head at myself. If only my ten-year-old self had known where this admiration would lead.

I thought back to the morning.

The heat of Chris’s body pressed against mine.
The way our hands worked each other in sync, a rhythm we weren’t supposed to fall into but did anyway.
The way he gasped my name as he came, his body tensing before going slack beneath my touch.

A slow smile spread across my lips as I leaned against the wall, hands in my pockets.

This isn’t over.

Chris thought he could push this away, tell himself it was a one-time thing. I could see it in his eyes when he pulled away, in the hesitation when he told me it couldn’t happen again.

But I wasn’t going to let this slip through my fingers.

I had waited too long, wanted him for too long, to let this be nothing but a stolen moment. I wanted more.

And tonight, I was going to take it.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, pulling me from my thoughts.

Chris: Hope you're doing good on your tour. I'm off to the meeting now.

I smirked, already knowing I had won.

Then came the second message.

Chris: I really wanna take you to dinner tonight. And Grayson… thanks for everything.

My pulse jumped.

Maybe Chris wasn’t running. Not really. If he truly wanted to put distance between us, he wouldn’t be reaching out. He wouldn’t be asking me to dinner, wouldn’t be thanking me like that.

He felt it too.

And tonight, I was going to make sure he stopped fighting it.

I pocketed my phone, my decision already made.

Tonight, I wasn’t just going to push Chris.

I was going to make him admit what we both already knew.

--- --- ---

I spotted Chris the second he walked into the restaurant.

He was dressed in a fitted button-up and dark jeans, casual but still effortlessly put together. He scanned the room, his sharp brown eyes landing on me, and just like that, the awkwardness from this morning crept back in.

For a second, I wondered if this would be weird—if we’d sit across from each other pretending like nothing had happened. But then Chris gave me one of his easy grins, the kind that could smooth over any situation, and suddenly it didn’t feel awkward anymore.

“So, Grayson,” he said as he slid into the seat across from me. “Enjoy the tour today?”

I smirked. “Yeah. Checked out the hockey team.”

That caught his interest. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “And?”

I shrugged, playing it cool. “Looks solid. But the best part was the old team photos. You had that whole cocky, young hotshot look going on.”

Chris laughed, shaking his head. “Jesus. I haven’t thought about those in years.”

I hesitated for half a second before throwing out the bait. “You were always standing beside someone in those pictures, though. Nathaniel Quinn.”

His expression shifted—just slightly, but I caught it. His easy smile didn’t fade, but something in his eyes flickered, like a memory brushing the edge of his mind.

“Yeah,” he said, running a hand over his jaw. “Nate and I were tight back then.”

I took a sip of my drink, forcing myself to sound casual. “More than tight?”

Chris’s eyes locked on mine, studying me, like he was trying to figure out how much I already knew.

I swallowed, my heart pounding a little harder now. This was it. This was the moment to be honest.

I set my drink down and met his gaze head-on. "I'm gay."

Chris didn’t look surprised. He exhaled, nodding slightly as he leaned back in his chair. "I kind of figured," he admitted. "Or at least, I had a feeling you might be bi. That’s actually part of why I wanted to do this trip with you."

My eyebrows lifted slightly, and he let out a small, almost self-conscious chuckle. "I hoped you'd open up to me, that you’d trust me enough to come out if you were ready. That said, I never expected… well, what happened this morning."

I chuckled playfully. "I’m glad I finally dared to do both."

Chris seemed momentarily caught off guard by my forwardness, but he quickly regained his composure, a glint of something unsaid flickering in his eyes before he continued. "So, how long have you known? You know… that you're gay?" He looked genuinely curious.

"I’ve known for a while," I admitted. "There have been… offers, I guess. Opportunities. But it never felt right. Because—" I exhaled, fingers tightening around my glass. "Because I’ve had strong feelings for someone else for a long time. And I wanted them to be my first."

Chris didn’t say anything at first. He just watched me, like he was waiting for me to say it. Maybe he already knew where this was going. Maybe he had always known.

I could have danced around it. I could have let it sit between us, unspoken but obvious.

But I didn’t.

"I was into you, Chris."

His jaw tensed slightly, and he leaned back, letting out a slow breath.

I wasn’t sure what I expected—shock, discomfort, maybe a forced letdown. But none of those things came.

Instead, Chris looked down at the table, tracing the rim of his glass with his thumb. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, more thoughtful. "I’m bi," he said. "Not a lot of people know. Not even your aunt."

I held my breath, waiting.

Chris exhaled. “And you were right about Nate. We were more than just teammates.”

There it was.

I felt a rush of something—excitement, validation, maybe even jealousy, though I had no right to feel that.

Chris continued, his voice quieter now. “It started during our second season together. The first time just… happened. After practice, late at night, when it was just us in the locker room.”

I knew exactly how that felt.

“We messed around a few more times after that,” Chris admitted. “And not just with Nate. A couple of other guys, too. But by the end of college, I told myself it was just something I needed to put behind me. Do the right thing.”

He let out a soft laugh, but there was no humor in it.

"I met your aunt right before graduation. She was great—smart, funny, everything I thought I was supposed to want. So eventually, I married her," he said, his fingers tapping lightly against the table. "And I told myself that part of my life was over. Just youthful experimentation."

I swallowed, my pulse thrumming in my ears.

But then Chris lifted his gaze to mine, and for the first time tonight, there was no distance between us. No dodging. No pretending.

"But then this morning," he said, his voice low, "made me realize maybe it was never just experimentation. I've never admitted this to anyone—not even to myself—until now. I'm most definitely bi."

A small shiver ran down my spine.

We sat there in silence for a moment, but it wasn’t awkward. It was heavy. Charged. Like we had both just crossed a line that neither of us could step back from, neither did I want to.

Chris’s hand rested on the table between us. I reached out, slowly, brushing my fingers against his. He didn’t move away.

If anything, he turned his palm up, letting our fingers lace together.

"I want it too, Grayson. I want you," Chris admitted, holding my gaze as he squeezed my hand.

Heat coiled in my stomach, my breath turning shallow.

I almost didn’t hear the server when she cleared her throat lightly.

“Dessert?” she asked.

I shot Chris a playful look. “Maybe we can take dessert back to the hotel?”

Chris cleared his throat, pulling his hand back, though his gaze never left mine. He was clearly on board.

"Just the check, please."

I didn’t last long before I had to excuse myself to the restroom.

Not to piss.

But because I needed a moment to cool the fuck down.

All I knew was that I needed to get out of here.

As I headed toward the toilets, I caught the server’s voice behind me. “You and your boyfriend look so cute together.”

I slowed down just enough to hear Chris’s response.

He seemed a little thrown off at first, but then I heard him say, “Thanks,” followed by something about how much I meant to him.

He didn’t correct her.

The moment I stepped inside, I gripped the edge of the sink, taking a deep breath. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to jerk off, text him and drag him in here to fuck, or just scream out in joy.

I needed to get him back to the hotel.

Back to the room for ‘dessert’.

Back where we wouldn’t have to dance around this anymore.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. I yanked it out and saw a message from Chris.

Chris: Meet me outside.

I ran a hand through my hair, taking one last deep breath before pocketing my phone.

Tonight it was finally going to happen.

And I couldn’t fucking wait.